


under control

by orphan_account



Category: SWMRS (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 07:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21406174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Max leaned into him, resting his head on Joey’s shoulder and sniffled. They sat like that for a long time, slowly folding further and further into each other until their bodies were practically indistinguishable from one another, as an ache began to develop in Joey’s chest, the same type of longing ache that he got when they hadn’t gone on tour or played a show together in months.
Relationships: Max Becker/Joey Armstrong, Max Becker/OFC, Max Becker/Seb Mueller
Kudos: 5





	under control

The lights were hot. Hotter than usual, it seemed. Sweat was dripping from Joey’s own brow, soaking his shirt, running down his sides, dribbling down his curls and into his eyes, obscuring his vision the stage and small crowd that lay before him. Max traipsed into his field of vision, leaning back-to-back with Cole for their typical dual solo routine. They were sweaty, too. Makeup was streaming down Cole’s face and the sweat made Max glow. Max’s cheeks were flushed. He climbed onto an amp and jumped off of it, rolling on the ground, his soft blonde hair flying, lips slightly parted. As he came to a lull in the beat, Joey slicked his hair out of his eyes and watched Max’s fingers move up and down his guitar. It was something he’d seen thousands of times over the past decade and a half. And yet, he always found himself staring.

“Dude.” Seb hissed suddenly, looming over Joey’s kit. When did he get there? Joey could have sworn he was all the way across the stage a split second ago. 

Joey flinched, and realized he was late coming in. His foot came down hard on the drum pedal. Fuck. 

Joey bit his lip and stared straight ahead. The rest of his bandmates fumbled for a moment before they all came together, syncing up properly. Only a brief hiccup, really, but an awkward, painful one. His face burned red for the rest of “Figuring It Out,” too stunned by the fact that he had screwed up to think. 

Joey cringed when he heard Max’s voice. “This next song’s called Drive North.”

He finished with his head tilted to the left, fixating completely on the back of Seb’s head. How could he have fucked up like that? He was the backbone. The band depended on him. Cole could fumble with his guitar or sing a line off-key and they could all continue, but a single missed note on Joey’s part could result in the whole song falling completely apart. Joey was lucky that they’d been playing together long enough, be connected enough, to fall right back into place. Joey gritted his teeth and hit the toms as hard as he could, concentrating only on the beat. 

“I wanna thank everyone for coming out tonight, we really do appreciate it! Thank you all so much, it means a lot to us. Yo, we’ll be hanging out outside in just a little bit if you wanna say hi! We love all of you guys!” Cole said, leaning heavily against the mic, before the quartet filed offstage and to the green room, where Wills was already sitting on his phone, probably texting his girlfriend. 

Their shirts landed in a sweaty pile on the floor as they all grabbed bottles of water off the counter. “I call first dibs on the shower!” Max said. No one challenged him. 

Joey sank onto the couch and chugged his water. He crushed the bottle in his fist and threw it across the room, staring straight ahead. 

“Hey,” Cole said. He plopped down onto the couch beside Joey, soaked in sweat. They both stank. “Can I talk to you about tonight?”

“I’m sorry. I fucked up. I know.” Joey didn't look at Cole, instead fixing his eyes on the sticker-covered wall across the room. He picked at a stray thread on the dingy couch. 

“It’s okay. That stuff happens. I’m not mad at you or anything. I just wanted to ask you if you’re okay is all,” Cole said. This would be easier if his friends didn’t care about him so much. Cole was painfully kind, painfully gentle. It would be easier if he had stormed over looking for a fight. “You’ve seemed really upset lately. If there’s anything you want to talk about, just tell me. You know I’m here for you. We all are.”

Joey said nothing. His fingers tightened around the thread, cutting off circulation in his index finger, and then he ripped it off savagely, his lip curling and jaw clenching slightly. Cole leaned his head onto Joey’s shoulder. They sat like that for what felt like a very long time, but was probably only a few minutes, until Max emerged from the shower, bare skin glittering. 

“You guys go outside.” Joey said stiffly. “I don’t really feel up to it tonight. They’re all waiting for you.”

Cole stood up and looked at Joey sympathetically. Joey forced himself not to look away. 

“See you later, man.” he said.


End file.
